


Sonnet Number One

by carolinecrane



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-04 23:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-ep for 4.12, "Butterflied". A reunion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sonnet Number One

Greg ducked out of work a few minutes early – not so early that Grissom would notice, but early enough to give himself time to make a few stops along the way. 

He'd only been on his own for a couple days, but it was surprising how quickly he could run out of...well, everything. His first stop was the grocery store for milk and bread, then the liquor store for imported beer, where he spent ten minutes deliberating between the kind Nick liked and a Japanese brand that would go with dinner before he finally decided to get them both. His last stop was a Japanese place not far from the Strip, and for a few seconds he actually considered running into the flower shop next store while he waited for them to put his order together.

If he picked up flowers he knew Nick would get the joke, but his practical side reminded him that if he did they'd just die eventually, and then someone would be stuck cleaning up the mess. Nick, if he was being realistic, and then Nick wouldn't think the joke was so funny anymore. So he skipped the romance and tucked Nick's welcome home yakisoba in the back seat with the groceries, and when he pulled up outside the airport's baggage claim area Nick was just walking out the door.

He grinned at his impeccable timing and leaned across the seat to unlock the door, watching Nick toss his bag in the back and slide into the seat next to Greg. "Hey. How was the flight?"

"Long. Noisy. Crowded," Nick said, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose at the memory. A second later he opened his eyes and smiled at Greg. "Sorry. I'm just glad to be back."

"You don't have to apologize for missing me," Greg answered as he pulled away from the curb, Nick's laugh making his stomach flutter. And it had been long enough now that he shouldn't get butterflies just thinking about Nick, but it still happened almost every time. He wondered sometimes if Nick felt it too, but every once in awhile he'd catch the other man looking at him and he didn't have to ask. 

"Did I miss anything?" Nick asked, leaning back in his seat and Greg could feel those eyes on him as he tried to focus on the road. 

"Nothing much. It's been pretty much business as usual." He glanced over at Nick and grinned, but the truth was that he didn't really remember all that much about the past few days. He'd gone through the motions at work, but it had been weird going home to an empty house and he'd spent most of the time distracted by the fact that Nick wasn't around. 

They didn't even really see each other much at work anymore, not since Greg moved in and Nick started to get paranoid about Grissom. He seemed to think they had to prove that their personal lives wouldn't interfere with their jobs, which in Nick's mind seemed to translate as staying far away from Greg whenever he thought Grissom might be around. Greg understood why he was so paranoid – Grissom still made him nervous even after all this time – but that didn't mean he had to like it. He'd been hoping to go out in the field with Nick a lot more, but so far that hadn't happened and he was starting to think Catherine was the only one who was going to give him a chance.

Complaining about it would just make Nick feel guilty, though, so Greg kept his mouth shut and told himself he could wait until after the promotion to have that conversation. He had no idea what Nick's promotion meant to their relationship – it might mean he never went out in the field again, because technically that would make Nick his supervisor, and they both knew Grissom wouldn't go for that. 

He swallowed a sigh as he pulled into their driveway because he didn't want Nick to notice that something was bothering him. Tonight he just wanted to forget that they worked together, that they were doing this weird juggling act with their relationship and their jobs. Tonight he just wanted it to be him and Nick and some good food before they went to bed to make up for lost time. Maybe they could even have dinner _in_ bed – and okay, it was technically lunch, but no matter what time it was they were going to end up in the same place, so it didn't really matter.

He lifted the groceries out of the back of the car as Nick hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, then he followed the other man into the house and kicked the door shut behind them. For three days he'd been rattling around Nick's – their – house all alone, and it had seemed a lot bigger and a lot quieter when Nick wasn't there. He'd never had that problem when he was still living in his apartment, but that was before he knew what it was like to come home to Nick every day. It was surprising how much difference one person could make. 

He put the groceries away while Nick disappeared into the back of the house long enough to drop his bag in the bedroom, then he put dinner on actual plates and opened two beers. 

"Something smells good," Nick said as he walked back into the kitchen, hand on Greg's waist as he peered over his shoulder. "You read my mind. I'm starving."

Greg grinned and turned toward Nick, hands gripping the front of Nick's shirt to pull him into a kiss. Their first in three days, and he had no idea he was going to miss it this much. He'd missed those hands on his skin, missed Nick's mouth and he'd even missed the way Nick smelled. Not that he'd ever admit any of that, at least not unless Nick said it first. 

"The food'll get cold," he murmured against Nick's mouth when a hand slid under his shirt, palm flat against his back to pull him even closer. 

Nick murmured something unintelligible in response, but a few endless seconds later he pulled away and reached for one of the beers on the counter. "Japanese?"

"I was going for a theme," Greg said, matching Nick's grin with one of his own. He picked up a plate and pushed it into Nick's free hand, then grabbed his own food and tilted his head in the direction of the bedroom. "You wanna take this someplace more comfortable?"

And it turned out that eating yakisoba in bed was more complicated than it sounded, but it was worth it just to watch Nick laugh every time his food slid off his chopsticks. It was worth it just to see Nick with his shoes off and his legs crossed, looking more relaxed than Greg had seen him since this whole promotion thing started. 

"How was Chicago?"

"Cold," Nick answered, shuddering as though he could still feel the chill in his bones. And maybe he could, because he'd lived in hot climates his whole life and he wasn't used to that kind of winter. "I don't get how people can live like that."

"You get used to it," Greg said, because even though he'd never lived in the Midwest, he'd moved around more than Nick. 

Nick looked like he didn't really think it was possible to adjust to that kind of cold, and part of Greg agreed with him. "All I know is the next conference I go to is either going to be somewhere warm or during the summer."

"Or you could just do what Sara does and wait for the conferences to come to Vegas."

"She only does that so she can bail and come back to work if any good cases come up," Nick answered. "You know, you're gonna have to start attending these things too if you really want to work out in the field."

He'd thought about that already, but he was pretty sure Nick wouldn't approve of _what_ he'd been thinking. And it wasn't that he wasn't serious about becoming a CSI, but whenever he thought about those conferences he couldn't help thinking about going _with_ Nick, about hotel rooms and new cities and things that didn't have a whole lot to do with actual conferencing. He knew what Nick would say if he mentioned any of that, though, so he kept his fantasies to himself and nodded over the top of his beer.

"I'm holding out for Hawaii."

"I wouldn't hold my breath. Catherine's had dibs on that one forever."

"Catherine likes me," Greg said, grinning when Nick rolled his eyes. "She takes me out in the field, she might take me to Hawaii."

Nick opened his mouth to answer, then thought better of it and closed it again without saying anything. Instead he shook his head and reached for his beer, draining the bottle before he set it back down again. Greg was pretty sure he'd been about to say something along the lines of 'you're not going to Hawaii with anybody but me', but he knew if he pushed Nick would just deny it. Instead he set his plate down on the nightstand and stretched his legs out, pressing his toes against Nick's thigh. "What, you think Catherine would rather take you to Hawaii?"

"I think Cath would rather take Warrick to Hawaii," Nick answered, setting his own plate down before he reached down to wrap a warm hand around Greg's ankle. "But it's not like she's got any say in it. Gris approves all that stuff."

"Why are we talking about work, anyway?" he asked, stopping just short of rolling his eyes. He forgot sometimes just how literal Nick could be – the whole point of the conversation had been to get Nick to admit that he wanted to be the one to go to Hawaii with Greg – to go anywhere with Greg – but that obviously wasn't going to happen.

"You brought it up," Nick said, but he pulled his hand away from Greg's ankle and shifted onto his knees, his hand behind Greg's neck to pull him forward for another kiss. He tasted like beer and tonkatsu sauce, and when Nick finally pulled away Greg found himself flat on his back. He didn't remember leaning back or even moving, really, but Nick was stretched out next to him and warm against Greg's side, and it didn't really matter how they'd gotten there.

"You really want to go to Hawaii?" Nick asked, his palm flat against Greg's chest, rising and falling steadily with each breath Greg took. 

Greg shrugged with one shoulder and shifted onto his side, swallowing a gasp when Nick's hand slipped under his shirt. "Well I've always wanted to try out the waves there. But I don't really want to go with Catherine. She'd want me to teach her to surf and she'd be really impatient, and it would just end in a big drama."

Nick laughed and leaned forward, burying his face in the warmth of Greg's shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of Greg's neck, then on the underside of his chin before he looked up again. "I'm pretty patient."

"You're more patient than Catherine, I'll give you that."

Nick's hand was moving on his skin now, tracing slow circles on Greg's chest. Every time he hit a certain spot Greg shuddered and shifted a little closer, and by the time Nick spoke again they were practically sharing the same breath. "We could go to Hawaii," Nick said, his smile fading into something serious enough to make Greg's heart skip a beat. "We could go wherever. I bet I could talk Grissom into giving us some time off together."

"What, you wanna go on vacation? You just got back," Greg said, hoping he sounded more relaxed than he felt. He knew Nick could feel his heart pounding, though, so it didn't really matter if he could hear it in Greg's voice. 

"That wasn't a vacation. Besides, the whole time I kept thinking about how much better it would have been if you'd been there."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Nick answered, and when he grinned Greg knew his surprise was written all over his face. "I missed having you around to tell me dumb jokes and explain the science behind the six feet of snow on the ground."

"There aren't six feet of snow on the ground. That's impossible," Greg said, although he'd never actually been to Chicago so maybe it wasn't.

"Felt like it," was Nick's only answer, and he let out another little shiver at the memory of the cold. 

For a minute he was quiet, his gaze fixed on Greg's stomach as his hand moved under Greg's shirt. Greg started to think that maybe that was the end of the conversation – not that he was complaining, because Nick's hand was moving lower and it was getting difficult to think and remember how to breathe at the same time. 

"I mean it, G. We could go anywhere. Except Chicago."

Greg laughed a little shakily; the idea of Nick and vacation was something he hadn't let himself think about aside from the occasional conference fantasy, because their schedules were hard enough to coordinate without trying to get more than two days in a row off at the same time. "We should probably steer clear of the whole Great Lakes region, just to be safe."

"New England too. I hear it's cold up there this time of year." The words were murmured against the corner of his mouth, and Greg laughed as he turned into the kiss. His laugh trailed off into a soft moan when Nick's hand slid past his stomach to stroke him through his jeans. 

"So…" Greg said, his voice breathy as he thrust up into Nick's touch, "…maybe…maybe we should stick to the South."

"Mmm," Nick murmured, his breath hot against Greg's mouth, "you ever been to Mexico? I know this great place…"

"Wherever," Greg interrupted before he surged up for a hard kiss. When he pulled away again they were both panting, and Nick didn't look like he was thinking about Mexico anymore. "Can we talk about this later?"

"Anything you say, G," Nick answered, and the best part was that Greg knew he meant it.


End file.
